The call came in just after 5 p.m., as I was dotting “i”s and crossing “t”s and preparing to wrap it up for the day.  She informed me that she needed a lawyer to represent her in a “petite” larceny.  Not being able to discern her stature over the phone, I took her word for it.  She told me she found me on Avvo.

I apologized, and informed her that it wasn’t the sort of criminal defense work I did.  “Petite” larceny wasn’t my thing, unless she happened to murder a few people in the process or was CEO of a multinational.  That’s just my cute way of saying that her case wasn’t serious enough for me, a concept which I agree is arrogant but, sad truth told, realistic. 

She started screaming at me, “But you’re a criminal lawyer. You must take my case!”  I began saying, “I’m sorry, but,” and got no farther.  She was raging about my duty to defend her.  Avvo said so.  Avvo said I was a criminal defense lawyer, and she was a criminal defendant.  Therefore, I had no choice in her mind.

According to twitter, the internet is all about marketing.  Though that’s not my belief, nor that of many others, the message remains loud and strong, ringing in the ears of consumers who seek to use it for their purchasing decisions.  Including consumers of legal services.

From my lawyer perspective, obviously no relationship is established by dint of my happy face being visible on Avvo.  The same is true of my having a website and a blawg.  I may be here, but that doesn’t mean that anyone who stumbles in is my client, a person to whom I owe a duty of representation.

But that doesn’t mean the consumer of legal services shares my understanding.  Clearly, the woman who was irate with me for not being willing to sell my services to her, to take her case, an obligation she believed existed merely because she found me on the internet,

Her rationale was that I held myself out to be a criminal defense lawyer.  I was selling.  She was buying. That was that.  Contrary to what some might think, I don’t enjoy fighting with people.  I didn’t want to have this woman I don’t know furious with me, screaming at me on the telephone.  But given the way that lawyers market themselves, it’s not exactly surprising that she believed she was in the right. 

After I finally disengaged from this very unpleasant telephone call, the woman no happier with me at the end of the call as she remained unconvinced that I didn’t have to represent her upon demand, I pondered what I could do to avoid another confrontation.

My thoughts first turned to Avvo, where  my profile lists me as doing 50% criminal defense and 50% white collar defense, with a graphic to prove it to those for whom reading is problematic.  Neither is really accurate, and I despise the phrase “white collar defense,” but Avvo’s practice choices ram it down my throat.  Having had this discussion with Mark Britton, Avvo’s CEO, previously, I had added into my profile language noting that my practice was limited to “the defense of while collar and serious criminal accusations at investigative, trial and appeal stages in state and federal courts.”

I struggled with what to say to stop the calls from coming by nice folks who got nabbed for shoplifting, or peeing in the park, or riding their bicycles on the sidewalk.  Those are the people who tend to call me from Avvo, and while I appreciate that they are trying to find a lawyer to represent them, I’m not their guy.  I don’t want to be arrogant or mean about it.  I’m not suggesting that they are unworthy of a defense, or that their cases are too trivial.  I’m merely saying that I’m not the lawyer they’re looking for. 

Perhaps part of the problem is that people look at the graphic, the part of Avvo that lists lawyers in such broad categories as to invite confusion that I’ve tried to avoid by including more specific information to let them know that I don’t do shoplifting defense.  If Avvo was to take the category of criminal defense and break it up into three categories, for example, of misdemeanor, felony and serious felony, it might help to clarify?

My guess is it would work for some, but not for the nice woman who grew irate with me.  She might have had a misdemeanor, but she wanted the best lawyer the internet had to offer.  If there was a “most serious felony ever in the world” category, that’s where she would have look for a lawyer to defend her.  Even though she had (yet) to murder anyone.

Still, this wouldn’t address the problem of people on the internet deciding that an attorney client relationship exists merely because they decided that they want me to be their lawyer.  This isn’t the first time this has happened.  I once got a call from a court clerk asking where I was, a defendant having informed the court that I represented him even though I had never spoken with the defendant and had no clue who he was.  It was surreal, and embarrassing. I didn’t want the judge to think the defendant was nuts, but the defendant was nuts.

It doesn’t require a great deal of sophistication for a potential client to realize that no relationship is established merely because they stumbled across a website or Avvo profile, but as more people use the internet to go lawyer shopping, the likelihood of such mistakes increases.  Nobody wants to deal with angry, screaming people on the telephone as their closing up shop for the day.  I know I don’t. 

Yet they see our existence on the internet as a promise of availability to them, of the creation of a relationship based solely on their decision to purchase.  That’s the problem when lawyers hold themselves out for sale.